remarkably fine, and the air mild and cheerful."

"I would much rather the cheerfulness were here," replied his father,
putting his wasted hand upon his heart; "but I did not ask you here to
talk about myself on this occasion, or about my feelings. Miss Gourlay
has consented to marry you, I know."

"She has, my lord."

"Well, I must confess I did her father injustice for a time. I ascribed
his extraordinary anxiety for this match less to any predilection of
hers--for I thought it was otherwise--than to his ambition. I am glad,
however, that it is to be a marriage, although I feel you are utterly
unworthy of her; and if I did not hope that her influence may in
time, and in a short time, too, succeed in bringing about a wholesome
reformation in your life and morals, I would oppose it still as far as
lay in my power. It is upon this subject I wish to speak with you."

Lord Dunroe bowed with an appearance of all due respect, but at the
same time wished in his heart that Norton could be present to hear the
lecture which he had so correctly prognosticated, and to witness the
ability with which he should bamboozle the old peer.

"I assure you, my lord," he replied, "I am very willing and anxious
to hear and be guided by everything you shall say. I know I have been
wild--indeed, I am very sorry for it; and if it will satisfy you, my
lord, I will add, without hesitation, that it is time I should turn over
a new leaf--hem!"

"You have, John, been not merely wild--for wildness I could overlook
without much severity--but you have been profligate in morals,
profligate in expenditure, and profligate in your dealings with those
who trusted in your integrity. You have been intemperate; you have been
licentious; you have been dishonest; and as you have not yet abandoned
any one of these frightful vices, I look upon your union with Miss
Gourlay as an association between pollution and purity."

"You are very severe, my lord."

"I meant to be so; but am I unjust? Ah, John, let your own conscience
answer that question."

"Well, my lord, I trust you will be gratified to hear that I am
perfectly sensible of the life I have led--ahem?"

"And what is that but admitting that you know the full extent of your
vices?--unless, indeed, you have made a firm resolution to give them
up."

"I have made such a resolution, my lord, and it is my intention to keep
it. I know I can do little of myself, but I trust that where there is
a sincere